The New Team
by szmoon
Summary: Harry goes through his sixth year at Hogwarts with a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and a new Potions one. Some things may be stopped, but can others? (i know the summary is a bit cheesy, but i think (more hope) the story's good):)
1. NightTime Visitors

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of it, no (though it would be nice)-**

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Once again, Harry Potter awoke with a start as his scar seared with pain.  As was also usual, it was caused by one of the two extremely realistic dreams: reliving the death of his godfather, Sirius, or the time right after when Voldemort had possessed and controlled him.  Tonight, it had been the possession, and, like it had really just happened, Harry felt as though he had just endured about ten Crutacious curses put together. His bed sheets had been soaked through, and he was freezing. 

Though Harry had been dreading the thought of another dream, he was relieved to find that it wasn't about his godfather.  He still felt as though he had a blank spot that would never be filled again, but he had accepted the fact that it really did happen. Even so, he didn't think that reliving his worst memory would help him in any sort of way. 

_ Maybe Voldemort's trying to make me crack under the pressure, and's  sending the dreams to me, _thought Harry. 

By now Harry was used to seeing things out of Voldemort's eyes, though it was much different from seeing pre-decided things.  Both still made him wake up with his scar paining, but a slight less than it used to.  What had also improved was the fact that Harry's emotions didn't fluctuate with Voldemort's nearly as often anymore. 

As long as he was awake, Harry thought that he might as well be working on some of his summer homework.  Hermione seemed to have taken the liberty of (obviously while Harry wasn't around) putting the Ershium Charm on almost all of his parchment.  If he was to write something that had to do with one of his assignments on the parchment, the charm would then be canceled.  If Harry didn't do it, then Hermione would somehow find out and pester him with what seemed like at least a hundred owls at a time.  This, of course, turned Uncle Vernon's face a deeper shade of violet per owl.  He was not about to stop Harry's connection to the wizarding world; it could lead to the appearance to those freaks that had threatened his family at the train station. 

Harry suspected the reason for Hermione's behavior was because of his, and Ron's, abysmal average on their homework in the past couple of the years.  Harry secretly hoped that Ron was getting the same treatment as him, but didn't dare owl him with fear that he wasn't.  It would cause immediate laughter on Ron's end, even if he couldn't hear it. 

 "Maybe if I donate to spew or something, Hermione'll stop," Harry muttered to his only companion at Number Four, Privet Drive, Hedwig, as he went across the room to gather his homework stuff.  She was a snowy owl whom was adored by most of the girls in his year. 

As it was only two weeks into the most horrible and long lasting summer vacation ever, Harry didn't expect to be allowed to leave for the Burrow yet: Dumbledore had said that his mother's blood still protected him here.  He couldn't help but wonder when the time would come when he would be free of the wrath of the Dursley's.        

 At least he didn't seem to be discluded in anything this summer.  He was also getting _a lot_ more informative mail than last summer.  He was glad to have an excuse to send regular owls to the Order (though Harry wondered what would happen if he "forgot" to send one every three days) to keep his mind off things. 

            Being bored gave Harry a chance to wonder what he should do if he didn't get to go to the Weasley's soon enough.  He tried to plan it out on parchment:

_1.Launch plan in three more weeks if nothing happens soon_

_2.Don't send any owls for as long as necessary _

_3. In case Dursley's aren't already mad, make them mad by: a. "accidentally" break/knock something over_

_      b. threaten them with magic in front of other muggles_

_4. Hopefully aunt petunia and uncle Vernon will forget about Moody's threat and do something to me_

Given that Harry was bored most of the time, it didn't seem that odd that he was already plotting an escape route.  Actually, he could barely think of any thing but getting away from the Dursley's.  This summer they seemed to take a liking to make his life as annoying and miserable as possible.  For example, Dudley had began enjoying bumping into Harry while he was holding stuff.  If it was Harry's, it usually broke, which made the whole family in an unusually even menacing mood.  If it was theirs, then they enjoyed yelling at Harry to the fullest extent, and then punish him with as many chores that would keep him working until well past midnight.  Harry didn't bother letting anyone know what was happening, in case he was thought to be a baby that couldn't take something as small as chores.  What was worse was that the Dursley's seemed to know this. 

As all of this had managed to get Harry's temper up in only the past two weeks, he didn't want to know what the Dursley's had in store for him later. 

So Harry looked down at his assignments: he found what seemed to be a never-ending list sitting before him.  He decided to get started on his review essay on Vanishing spells for Mcgonical first, and then the one on Switching spells…

But even before quill touched parchment, Harry heard a sound so similar to the one last summer that it made his hair stood on end: someone apparating. 

It couldn't be Dung, could it? thought Harry. Last I heard he's still at headquarters hiding and selling more stuff.  It couldn't be Mrs. Figg, unless Squibs can apparate.  Then it must be somebody else…

Harry stood still with his quill poised for what seemed like at least half an hour.  It was really about only thirty seconds until he heard a bang that sounded suspiciously like the sound of something wet falling to the floor, and then of two to three sets of legs going up the stairs.  Harry scrambled to his feet and half sprinted to his dresser for his wand. 

Unless Harry wanted to risk expulsion and attend another hearing, he couldn't open the door with magic, and it was impossible without it. 

            But wait…,  Harry thought, I know those voices. 

            He then went hurriedly  to the door and waited for it to open.  When it did, he saw more than he had expected. 

Fred and George were standing before him, not very much different from the last time he saw them.  Identical as they were, they both still had on the unique dragon skin jackets, but Fred, as he suspected it was, had a large "F" imprinted on his hand.  George of course had a "G." 

                        What was unusual was that there was somebody else with them, too.  A girl who seemed to be about three to four years younger than him was standing next to the twins and was looking up at him expectantly, as if she thought that something should be happening but wasn't.  She had buoyant short black hair, large, wide eyes, and to top it all off she was dressed very oddly. 

At least her eyes don't pop like Luna's, thought Harry. 

"Uhh," Harry said, for he couldn't think of anything to say at the moment. 

"Hi Harry!" said Fred.  "We thought you might want some company."

            "Uhh, what are you guys doing here?" asked Harry.

             "Just like he said we thought you might like some company," replied George. 

            "And," pressed Harry.

            "And to see if you wanted some freedom," said Fred, a bit hopefully.

            "Of course I do!  What'd you think? That I wanted to stay in a Dursley infested house?  No way! But who's she?" said Harry, eyeing the twins suspiciously.

             "Oh yeah!" said Fred.

            "She's Orla, Orla Quirke," added George.

            "Why's she here?" Harry continued. 

"Well, you know how we left an' all last year, right?  How everyone was trying to take the position of troublemakers?  Well, we wanted to make sure that not just anyone got the position.  We wanted someone who would continue our famed success," explained Fred.

"So we decided to surveyed many willing candidates.  Nobody seemed to fit our requirements, though we didn't expect anyone to be perfect," added George. 

 "But then we came across Orla, here, and found that she would do her best in upholding the reputation of the position.  She hadn't come to us, but miraculously, we found her," said Fred, beaming at her in a kidding way. 

"Actually, Fred, I don't think we even knew that she was a metamorphigus, did we?"

 "No I don't think we did,"answered Fred, almost frowning at the wall. 

 "Orla agreed to take the post, and now we're training her over this summer! We've been telling her about a lot of our past experiences, like how we did them and how they turned out.  We also tell her about what the best secrets in the castle are, and how to get to them.  Oh yeah, we might need to show her the map Harry, do you mind?" Fred said. 

 "Yeah, sure, whatever," replied Harry, curious to where this was leading. 

 "Anyway, what we really came for was to ask if you wanted Orla to take your place sometimes this summer so she can get some training done," said George simply. 

 "Wait, what'd you just say?" asked Harry, startled by this abrupt idea. 

 "Uhh, we wanted to know if you're willing to let Orla take your place and get a chance to play tricks on people we don't mind experimenting on," Fred repeated. 

 "How on earth would you do that? And wouldn't someone notice that there's two Harry's?"

             "Now that's the tricky part," said George.  "Well, not that tricky, but a little."

             "We've been working on a new creation called the Self Apparator.  It can

transport anyone almost anywhere once, and then back again.  We made it to look like either a book or a rock- don't ask, we don't know why," Fred answered, as though it were a simple matter.  We thought that you would wonder how Orla got here, but you didn't seem to notice.  You each'll get one.  Of course, they both can apparate twenty-five sets times each, so you don't need so many.  And if you need more, just give us an owl." 

             "Who else knows about this?" he asked.

             "Only us, Ron, and… nobody else, right George?" asked Fred.

             "Nope, not that I know of."

             "Can I tell Hermione," Harry asked.

 "As long as you don't let anyone else know, and especially not our mum.  She'd kill us," answered Fred, half grinning. 

 "So what you're saying is that I can use those to get away?  How long at a time?" asked Harry in disbelief. 

             "Pretty much," half answered Fred. 

             "About a day to four, depending on how Orla feels.  Oh, and she's staying

at our house, mostly with Ginny when we're not training, so her parents won't miss her," added George. 

             "When do you guys want to start," Fred asked Harry and Orla.

             "Well, what are you planning to do to them, Orla," asked Harry, talking to her for the first time. 

             "I dunno.  Maybe use a couple of their old pranks  first," motioning towards the twins.  "Then I think I'll try something of my own.  You might need to leave a list of things you do when they get mad at you, so I don't seem suspicious," replied Orla. 

            She seems sensible enough, thought Harry. 

             "Would tomorrow night be okay with you guys, around twelve to one P.M.?  That's when the Dursleys are completely asleep," he said.   

            All three of his visitors agreed. 

             "Okay," said Harry.  " Is there anything else you need Orla?"

 "No, not really. But do your relatives mind puffskins?  If they do, I could just tell them that it's a gift for somebody else, but I don't really want to leave Badger at home.  I'd miss him too much."

Surprised by all of this talking (he had thought that she seemed shyish) Harry just answered, "Sounds okay to me." 

 "So everything's settled, then?" asked Fred.  "If you want to arrange times with anybody, just use owls, 'kay? 

 "Or when you're switching back," added George.

 "Oh, and if your folks ask how something got in the sink, don't answer," said Fred. 

 "Oh yeah, before we forget, here's your Self Apparator," said George.  "Thanks, Harry!"

And with that, all three were gone, with a loud crack leftover that reverberated around the room.  All that was left was the book in Harry's hands.    


	2. Preparation

**Chapter 2**

Having been unable to continue starting his homework, Harry had decided to owl Ron to find out when he could visit him at the Burrow.  He wrote:

Dear Ron,

Your brothers told me about the Self

Apparator.  Can I come over tomorrow

(Thursday) around twelve to one P.M.?

Where should I meet you?

                             Harry

As he watched Hedwig soar out of site into the milky night, Harry felt a surge of happiness at the prospect of an interesting summer. 

This'll be the best summer yet, he thought, purposely forgetting about last summer.  I'll escape from right under the Dursley's nose while they get pranked to the fullest extent. I don't even care if they kill me after the school year.  It would be worth it. 

With that last thought Harry fell asleep right at his desk.  He then started to get up from the floor, and, looking up, saw that Bellatrix had sent a jet of bright red light that went for Sirius.  He tried to call out, but nothing came out.  The jet hit him square in the chest.  If only if he could stop his fall, he could block him from the curtain.  He was still falling- there was still time-then he fell through, never to be seen again….

Harry woke up to the hard sensation of just having ridden the Knight's bus, and had found that he actually was on the floor.   His heart was beating faster than he would have thought possible, and he breathing was shallow and quick. 

And at once he remembered why he had woken up this way.  Last night he had been so preoccupied with the next night's events that he didn't even worry about having any dreams.   He wondered why he kept having them, but couldn't think of any logical explanation. 

As he got up, Harry wondered what time it was.  He was sure that the Dursleys wouldn't care if he showed up for breakfast or not: it wasn't like they wouldn't be happy if he starved to death. 

So Harry decided to eat a Pumpkin Pasty that he had brought back with him from the Hogwarts Express.  As he did, he thought of what he needed to do before he left for the Burrow.  

Orla had asked for a list of what he did.  Now that he thought of it, he didn't even know.  He might have thought that he just tolerated it, but he realized that he did many other things.  He usually threatened them with magic if they threatened him, and he normally annoyed them by agreeing with them, though he wasn't sure how that affected them.  He also normally went to his room and started trying to start his homework, or else wrote a letter (not about his problems) to somebody.  He hadn't realized that there were actually things that he regularly did.   So he wrote them down. 

As he was thinking about what to do next, Harry saw about three barn owls flying towards his window.  Noticing that it was closed, he quickly got up and opened it.  Too many times Errol, Ron's family owl, crashed into his window after his long flight there.

One owl landed on his arm, one in his lap, and the last next to him on the windowsill.  At once all started to peck at him, each trying to give him their own letter first.  As he reached for the one on his arm, the other two just increased their effort of damaging him.  Harry then grabbed the one next to him, ran towards his closet, and shut the door behind him before the other ones followed him. 

The contents of the letter just disgusted him.  It was only two weeks into the summer holidays, and Hermione seemed to expect him to have done some of his homework. 

As he threw the letter aside, Harry braced himself for retrieving the next owl without getting himself seriously hurt.  But, as he raced out towards the window, he found that the other two owls were taking turns at drinking out of Hedwig's water dish-peacefully. 

Harry edged warily toward them, wondering whether sudden movements triggered them.   As he neared them, he reached out for the one nearest to him and gently picked it up.  It didn't seem to mind, so he started untying the scroll attached to it.   He read:

Dear Harry,

You haven't even touched

Your homework, you know. 

And you've been destroying

all of the letters I've sent you,

I can tell.  I put a Flimane charm

on each one, to tell how long you

held them, and after the first one

they were about two seconds each.

You really should get started on

your homework, you know.  You

could get behind again, just like

last year, and the year before

that, now that I think of it.  Actually,

you've always…………………………...

…………………………………………………..

…………………………………… …………..

Harry didn't even bother to read the rest, no matter how true it might be.  He couldn't stand it when Hermione pestered him about his schoolwork.  It's not like he didn't have enough time.  He wondered if he should tell her about the Self Apparator. 

I'll think about it another time, he thought. 

He was in the process of throwing the letter away and reaching for the next one to do the same, when he thought better of it: it might just anger the owl.  What he read was a complete oddity.  Quickly scrawled, it read:

Dear Mrs. Beligite,

No matter what the circumstances,

don't take the post.  If you do, an

innumerable amount of misfortunes

may come to rest upon you.  I hope

you enjoy them. 

As Harry had no idea whatsoever who Mrs. Beligite was, and of what post the letter was talking of.  For all he knew, it could be a fence post. 

I must have gotten the wrong owl, is all, thought Harry, though he thought he should save it to show Ron and Hermione anyway. 

When he thought that he would have no more of his fluffy, yet vicious, visitors, Harry saw yet another owl flying towards him.  In fact, the swaying barn owl was Errol.  Harry quickly threw out his arms and caught the owl, who seemed to stagger while flying, in mid fall.  He took off the letter as quickly as possible while trying not to tip the precariously perched owl.  He read the note quickly. 

Dear Harry,

Meet me in the backyard

at 12 to 1 o' clock tonight. 

I'll make sure nobody'll

be disturbed.

                Ron

Harry put the note in his trunk along with the other ones he collected (not including Hermione's pestering ones).  He didn't want the Dursley's to be seeing any of his conversations with the wizarding world, though he doubted that they would want to.  

As Harry was deciding what to do yet again, he realized that he had better clean up and put away his stuff before he had to leave for Ron's.  He hadn't noticed that his stuff was cluttering the room up, though he didn't really care. 

After he had an old backpack from Dudley filled with only the things that he would need in the course of about two to three days, he sat back down and examined what was in it. He had put his wand (just in case), his broom (sticking out), and some clothes.  He guessed that he should leave Hedwig here, though he didn't really want to.  He knew she was out hunting right now, and would ask Orla to take care of Hedwig when she got back.   


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: About all of Hermione's house was made up, and nothing written here belongs to me (though it would be nice-) (sorry the story's a bit slow right now!)

I also have had difficulties with the internet lately, hence the reason I hadn't posted

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                                        **Chapter 1**

Hermione awoke in her own bed at home.  As she blinked away the blurriness, the familiar surroundings came back into view. 

Around her she saw the usual whitewashed walls and the simple blue and purple border.  Along the walls stood her two ceiling to floor bookshelves, each of which were filled with magical and muggle books alike.  Her desk in the corner had neat piles of paper and parchment, and quills, pencils, and pens shared room in their holders.  Though not open, her closet would open to reveal long black robes, and many sweaters and shirts, with a large trunk at the bottom nestled between a backpack and a seldom-used lunchbox. 

To any ordinary muggle, this room would have seemed more than strange.  Especially if closely observed, the binoculars that hung innocently on the door could watch something that happened about thirty seconds ago in the spot it watched.  Also, the homework that was done here would seem to be composed mostly of made up incantations and ingredients. 

So most muggles would just say that this girl was "bloody mental."

But Hermione Granger wasn't ordinary, and wasn't a muggle.  Even to her surprise, she was a witch.  A witch that attends Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and cares for her part kneazle, part cat, Crookshanks. Her best friends were Ron Weasley, and the Boy who Lived, Harry Potter. 

As Hermione got out of bed and made for the doorway, she paused and wondered, _Should I add boomslang skin to the list of rare ingredients…   Naw, then Snape would wonder how I knew about it._ 

She smiled as she thought of little exploit during her second year at Hogwarts. 

When she reached the kitchen, she saw that there was a barn owl on the table, watched interestedly by her parents, who was waiting for her.   


	4. Chapter 4

When she got to the table, Hermione said "Good morning"

to her parents, and then reached for the owl.  It willingly walked

forwards to the edge of the table.

Hermione wondered who it had come from, as she didn't recognize

this owl, and it was too early for Hogwarts letters.  It was also

obvious that it didn't have a copy of the Daily Prophet. 

The note was from Fred and George, and it was fairly short. 

_Dear Hermione,_

_Please don't be_

_alarmed if you don't_

_hear from Harry for _

_a while._

_           WWW_

_This sounds suspicious, _she thought._ It'd better not be dangerous._

Hermione thought it over as she talked to her parents.

_Maybe they taught him to Apparate._

"Yeah, I'm probably going to work on some more homework today,"

she answered. 

_Or maybe they're flying.  _

"Mostly Transfiguration and Herbology," she replied.

She was now lost in thought.  She couldn't figure out any way possible

that Harry could travel without getting him in serious trouble.  She surely

didn't want him to get expelled, or killed, he added as an afterthought. 

As Hermione watched the owl pick at the leftovers in her parents' cereal

bowls, she thought: _I might as well send a letter back.  I want to make _

_sure they're no doing anything stupid.  _

After just finishing her cereal, she went back to her room and fished out

parchment and quill. 

_If you guys don't tell _

_me what's going on, _

_I'll just have to find _

_out for myself.  _

_           Hermione_

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Orla was now searching everywhere in her house for her pet puffskin, Badger. 

As she couldn't let her parents notice that she was home (they didn't know

about the Self-Apparators) she had to be as inconspicuous as possible.

They still thought that she was at the Weasley's.

In the process of tearing apart her bedroom, Orla decided to try the bathroom

next: Badger always loved toilet water and soap. 

It was essential that she find him-he held her most treasured possessions.                   


End file.
